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Resurgence of Sorcery
By: Tellemicus Sundance
Co-Authored by: Fiori75
#02 – Chamber of Secrets

Library, Hogwarts
Saturday, September 10, 1994

It was odd, Harry thought, being happy that there was no Quidditch this year. In fact, the thought was nearly heretical, and had his old captain still been in residence, Harry was sure he'd have suddenly appeared to set him straight for the mere thought. Yet here he sat in the Library, note-tome open before him as numerous other books were open around him in an eclectic arrangement on a day he'd usually be out in the stadium practicing with his team. Hermione, likewise, sat across from him, her own fort of books surrounding her as she poured over facts. She had gotten rather odd about the notion that all of her books on magical and technological interactions might have been wrong.

"Here, Harry, here it says that Hogwarts is unplottable by radar. That means they had to have set up a machine and tested it." Hermione nodded, as she forced a copy of Hogwarts: A History into his hands, a manic gleam in her eyes.

"And this proves…?" Harry asked as he looked up from his designs for Model 3.7.1. The last several models having reacted oddly to the additions of electrical current… At least the mirror that had recorded his psyche had 'mysteriously' died. But with Hermione insisting on proving her point, Harry was starting to see that he wasn't likely to get the work done until he could shift her focus.

"…Well, that they got it here and it didn't work?" Hermione asked as if realizing somehow that, no, it neither proved nor disproved Harry's recent assertions.

That magic was not some anti-technological force that corrupted electronics. That wizards quite simply did not know what electricity was and having failed to operate several electrical devices without power sources had concluded that it was magic keeping them from working rather than their own lack of understanding. Since then, Hermione had been trying to prove him wrong. If only for the sake of her precious books, she couldn't take them lying to her a second time. Lockhart's horrifying revelation had been scandalous in the extreme!

"Hermione," Harry said with a heavy sigh, trying to rein in his mounting irritation with her as he glanced up at her. Either he hadn't done all that good of a job or Hermione knew him too well and could see through his mask. Regardless, he saw her flush slightly in embarrassment and he knew that she knew she was about to be gently scolded by him. "How exactly would they have done that?" He asked finally.

"Well…"

"Hermione, you and I both know there aren't any power lines for leagues. So, of course the thing couldn't get any readings. It's been 10 days already. I think it's time you face the facts: wizards have no concept of how technology works. All because they never realized one little thing," he finished as he brought the crux of the issue home.

"Harry, it can't be that." Hermione scowled as the topic moved back towards something she really didn't want to accept.

"Then what else could it be?" Harry asked back, honestly not seeing another alternative.

"I don't know!" Hermione shouted, drawing even the shocked eye of Madam Pince! "It's…a misunderstanding, a conspiracy, a-a-a-anything but that, Harry!" She blushed as she realized where she was and just what it was she was shouting.

"Really, Hermione? There's a plot to keep the magical world ignorant of technology and the advancements of science to…what? Keep them ignorant enough of modern day conveniences so they don't tear up old buildings to install air conditioners?" Harry asked with a completely straight face, fingers steepled together before him and hiding the lower half of his face…mostly so Hermione wouldn't see his stupid grin.

"That's dumb and you know it, Harry," she huffed as she looked back to her book.

"And suggesting conspiracy isn't? Hermione, you of all people should know not to assume malice where stupidity could explain everything," Harry replied as he lowered his arms, letting her take in his wide and amused face.

"Hanlan's Razor? From you, Mr. Snape-is-up-to-something?" Hermione replied bitingly.

"Hey, I was eleven, and I was right that something was up, just picked the wrong teacher," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Urgh, not the point," Hermione grumbled, finally giving up the fight and burying her face in her open tome in defeat.

"Sorry, Hermione, but facts are just facts. Wizards don't know what electricity is, and because they don't, their entire approach to muggle tech has been flawed," Harry said with a shrug.

"But how?! Arthur Weasley rebuilt his car from scratch. They have the Knight Bus and the wireless. Merlin, Harry, Draco bloody Malfoy, ignorant pureblood and proud of it, knows what a helicopter is well enough to brag about outrunning one. So, how—how can they possibly not know what electricity is?" she growled as she shifted in her spot, just enough so one eye was visible enough to glare at him through her hair.

"I don't know. How was Hogwarts constructed?" Harry replied with a grin, knowing she'd rise to the bait.

"With magic, Harry," She replied, her one visible eye somehow silently articulating the additional question about his lack of intellect.

"Exactly, Hermione," He smirked, causing his friend to raise her face from the table, just enough to better convey her look of resigned confusion.

"…You've lost me, Harry."

"Magic built this place, sure. But what spells, how many days, which rooms were first, how was that tower added?" he said as he pointed towards her impromptu pillow. "Hogwarts: A History probably has some of those answers, but I don't need to read it to tell you that this castle was made by magic." He explained.

"…And this has what to do with Malfoy and his helicopter?" she asked in confusion.

"He doesn't need to know how it works to know what it is. Just like I don't need to know what spells were used to know magic did it." Harry shrugged.

"That sort of logic literally hurts to understand, Harry. I hope you understand this," his friend conceded.

It would be truly remarkable how in a few short weeks, he'd be looking back on these annoying arguments with a deep yearning. Things were so much simpler. But, like all good things, it would come to an end far too quickly for the young Potter boy.

Friday, November 4, 1994

If Harry had thought matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of him being champion, the following day after the Goblet of Fire spat out his name showed him how mistaken he was. As it wasn't the weekend, he just couldn't avoid the rest of the school. He had to go to his lessons—and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought he had entered himself for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they didn't seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory. A feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, thanks in large part to Quidditch. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, whom Harry had normally got on very well with, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray. Though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grasp and smacked him hard in the face. Ron wasn't talking to Harry either. Hermione sat between them, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him, but then she was Head of Hufflepuff House.

He could understand the Hufflepuffs' attitude, even if he didn't like it. They had their own champion to support. He expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins. He was highly unpopular there and always had been, because he had helped Gryffindor so often, both at Quidditch and the Inter-House Championship. But he had hoped that the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric. He was wrong, of course. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the goblet into accepting his name.

Then there was the fact that Cedric looked the part of a champion so much more than he did. Exceptionally handsome, with his straight nose, dark hair, and gray eyes, it was hard to say who was receiving more admiration these days: Cedric or Viktor Krum. Harry actually saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krum's autograph begging Cedric to sign their school bags one lunchtime!

But it was Double Potions that was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. On an average day, Potions was a horrible experience. But these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry as much as possible for living and breathing, let alone being a school champion. It was about the most unpleasant thing Harry could imagine. He had already struggled through four days' worth of having Hermione sitting next to him intoning 'ignore them, ignore them, ignore them' under her breath and he couldn't see why this class should be any better.

When he and Hermione arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment, Harry thought they were S.P.E.W. badges, then he saw they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY
THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

"Like them, Potter?" asked Malfoy loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do—look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one which glowed green.

POTTER STINKS!

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all-around Harry. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.

"Oh, very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone. "really witty."

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.

"Want one, Granger?" asked Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see. Don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now—do it, if you've got the guts—"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then at exactly the same time both acted.

"Furnunculus!" "Densaugeo!"

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles. Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hand to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up. Hermione whimpered in panic, clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!" Ron hurried forward to see what was wrong with her. Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth, already larger than average, were now growing at an alarming rate. She was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin. Panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" asked a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations, but Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir—"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"—and he hit Goyle—Look!"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron snapped. "Look!"

Ron forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth. She was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubling up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper, her eyes filling with tears as she turned on her heel and ran. Ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time. Lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor. For in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.

"Let's see…" he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

As the class of red and green colored students filed into the classroom, Harry didn't budge from his spot as he glared at the Professor's retreating back. Harry's ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces.

After spending the majority of the summer working in peace on his lightsaber project, researching magic he didn't yet comprehend, finding out the finer points of technology he hadn't already known, experimenting with and building his models by combining the two, and having a damn-good amount of fun doing so. After having experienced such a high in a workshop that was eerily similar to a potion's lab, to now have plummeted so far down into the gutter, losing both his friends' supports and with the strong likelihood of being targeted by both the Slytherins and Snape. He could almost literally see it happening in his mind's eye. If he went into that class, today and now…bad things were going to happen. It was just… He just… He couldn't… He wouldn't…

After only a moment of relative indecision as he watched the class funnel inside, Harry abruptly turned on his own heel and followed after Hermione, leaving the dungeon. As he departed, he could literally feel Snape's glaring but triumphant eyes following and boring into his back until after he'd vanished around the corner and up the stairs. He just knew that Snape was going to make him pay this, but at this moment in time, he just didn't care!

Harry's original intention was to follow after Hermione to the hospital wing to support her during her recovery, then escort her to Gryffindor common room where they could get an early start on their homework. However, he had barely taken three steps out of the stairwell when he realized that neither Hermione nor Pomfrey would want his presence there, especially during class hours. So, with no real destination in mind and hotly burning temper just under the surface, he started stalking the lower halls of the castle, looking for an adequate place to brood in peace.

His sulking wandering was halted as he reached a very familiar doorway. Normally, he'd have done his utmost to utterly ignore this particular doorway. There were so many bad memories connected to this stretch of hallway and what lie behind that doorway in particular. But, as he thought on what he knew of it, Harry realized that this doorway (or, more specifically, the one that lie hidden behind it) was exactly what he needed right now. For inside the Chamber of Secrets, he was guaranteed to have the privacy he sought so badly right now.

Earlier…

The look on Snape's face as he closed the door behind him was that of unpleasant triumph, his eyes somehow seeming to glitter in delight. He practically strutted over to his desk, grabbing a bit of parchment and a quill as he reached it. "Well, it would appear that Mr. Potter has decided that he's exempt from attending class. That'll be 50 points from Gryffindor and a detention tonight for Potter's failure to attend." Predictably, this caused a rouse of anger from the Gryffindors and muted cheers from the Slytherins.

Once finished making a note of the deduction, Snape turned to face the class. "Antidotes. You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom to test one—"

A knock on the dungeon door interrupted Snape before he could even finish his first lecture. With only a slight wave of his wand, the door burst open and there stood the familiar form of Colin Creevey. The Gryffindor was beaming happily, apparently not taking in the sullen and friction-laden atmosphere of the class as he entered and moved over to Snape's desk and the man behind it.

"Yes?" Snape asked curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs," Colin said, the source of his good nature now becoming clear to all. Everyone knew of Colin's strange obsession and hero-worship of the Potter boy after all.

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, who smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter is not presently here," the man stated bluntly. "And he will have an hour of class and detention to follow that. He will be free afterwards."

Colin went pink. "Sir—Sir, Mr. Bagman wants him. All the Champions have got to go. I think they want to take photographs…"

"As I'd stated, he's no longer here," Snape bit out sharply. But then he glanced contemplatively over the class. "He's no doubt followed after Granger like a lost puppy. Parkinson, so glad you could volunteer to go and retrieve the boy," the Slytherin head sneered, adding just one more insult to the ratty little mudblood.

Though Pansy did wish she had actually been given the choice to say no. Still, the chance to see Granger helpless would be at least somewhat worth it…that and missing class with Longbottom when he wasn't being watched by one of the golden trio. Draco could deal with the caustic effects of his fun by himself today.

So, with only a marginal amount of haste, Pansy left the classroom, ascending from the potential hell of clumsy fools and trending onwards to the mixed pleasure of gloating over Granger whilst still technically running an errand. That it was an errand that technically helped Potter of all people was just something she'd have to live with. Much as she had gotten used to the various odors that emanated from Draco's lackeys, her Head of House's inability to actually teach a dangerous subject, or her mother's constant urging to be better.

She'd just have to gloat at Granger's misfortune extra-hard to counter out her own, it was only fair. Nodding in affirmation to herself, Pansy was just about to continue on her journey when she spotted something that did not fit the picture she'd formed in her head. Harry Potter was wandering around on the first floor.

Potter wasn't heading up the stairs, much as she would have kept doing had she not seen him. He wasn't attending to his mudblood like some sort of lost puppy as he had every other time she got injured. Nor did he look like the sullen brooder Draco had always painted him as. He instead looked thoughtful as he started drifting about the first floor almost aimlessly. His right hand idly playing with some kind of silver tube he pulled from his pocket.

Strangest of all though was the sudden stop right outside of the haunted girl's lavatory.

Frowning in confusion and slight anger, Pansy hurried forward, wanting to trap the boy inside. This way she could probably get the wizarding idol to explain just why he suddenly felt the urge to seek out the company of an annoying ghost. Oh yes, she was very interested in the boy's unexpected detour. But just as she reached and partially opened the doorway, she heard something that she hadn't heard for almost two years, a sharp, mysterious, but also rather threatening hissing noise that seemed to echo through the bathroom. House of the Serpent she might be in, but the entire wizarding world had been long taught to fear the voices of those who spoke the tongue of snakes.

Immediately following this terror-inducing noise, a brilliant white light flared to life, casting the entire room into stark hues of blinding whites and deep blacks. At the same time, a grinding sound of moving stone and a rattling and screeching of rusted metal gears filled the air. After only a moment of this noise and light, everything died down and Pansy could see inside once again. She stared in shocked surprise at seeing Potter striding towards a large, man-sized hole in the wall that had obviously just opened. Without a hint of hesitation, the boy stepped into the hole and dropped out of sight.

Opening the door and hurrying inside, Pansy rushed to the hole and stared down into the darkness underneath. Faintly, she could make out the noise of the boy sliding ever lower into the tunnel that was revealed. "What—What is all this, Potter?!"

Frowning, Pansy leaned back and looked towards the exit with an expression of hard contemplation. She was weighing her options of rushing back to the dungeons to inform her Head of House of these strange events, or instead acting like a Gryffindor to sate her mounting curiosity and jumping in blindly after him. After several more glances between the two choices she had, Pansy finally let out a heavy sigh of resignation. In another moment, down went Pansy after him. Never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. She glimpsed more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as the one she was in. It twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and she knew that she was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons were. And then, just as she had begun to worry about what happen when she hit the ground, the pipe leveled out. She shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.

Quickly climbing to her feet, Pansy could see the fading shine of a Lumos spell as Harry was already moving away. Drawing her wand but not igniting her own spell, Pansy quickly but carefully followed after him, trying to remain on the outermost edges of the light that Potter had made. After a few minutes of walking, they came to a stop because of a large cave-in that was blocking most of the tunnel ahead. Most of it, because Pansy could see a small area near the top that was just large for a small kid to slip through.

Waving his wand in an almost annoyed manner with a mumbled spell, Pansy watched as Potter cast a large-scale Reparo charm. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as she watched enormous and tiny chunks of fallen rock alike rapidly ascend back up into the ceiling, large cracks closing, and the slight slag of the ceiling rising back up into a proper arch form.

'I didn't think Potter had this much power already!' If you listened to Malfoy, and indeed most Slytherins' opinions, then Potter was little better than a Squib in terms of raw power, finesse, and potential. But Pansy had never fully ascribed to that belief. The boy was at best an average wizard, courtesy of his lazy work ethic and Weasley's influence, but that had been all she'd assumed he was. But now, she realized it was something else entirely. 'Either Potter has been hiding the depths of his power or he's never been pushed to his limit before!'

Potter had started moving forward again during her contemplation and was nearly out of eyesight when she came back to herself. This turned out to be a good thing for Pansy since he was just far enough away to not hear or notice the crunching noises of the bones shards as she tried and failed to move daintily over them without making a sound. As she was doing this, Pansy glimpsed something in the receding light from ahead. It was huge but still rather crushed from the cave-in earlier, lying right across the tunnel. It took a few moments, but Pansy soon realized it was peeled snakeskin.

"Oh shit, that's a big snake," she couldn't help uttering quietly in awe.

And it was just as that quiet statement was spoken that Pansy froze, her eyes widening in dawning suspicion. Was she…? Could Potter really have…? Was it possible that she was…in or near the Chamber of Secrets?!

Pansy had known that the Chamber was at the center of the events during her mutual Second Year with Potter, that something had happened there when the youngest Weasel had been taken, and it ended with Lockhart tragically gone mad. But the Chamber had supposedly closed itself off due to Harry's 'heroic efforts.' The working theory amongst the Slytherins was that the now-crazed former hero had used Potter's gift of Parseltongue to gain entry and had fought the Beast therein. The other option would be that Potter himself had somehow beaten the Beast…at age twelve.

When the running theory was that he was a talentless near-Squib? Nobody in Pansy's House had even considered it, not when someone with far more actual experience was also present. Though, with his recent display, combined with the size of the small gap that had been present in the now fixed rubble? The implication was frightening to an extreme, because it quite frankly did not fit the picture she had formed of Potter in her head. That he was also apparently traipsing around in the sanctum of Slytherin, was a known Parselmouth, and had casually displayed raw power she'd have passed out trying to match? The implications were staggering and painted a slightly worrying picture.

Could he possibly also possess the blood of Slytherin?

Chamber of Secrets

'I guess I shouldn't be surprised that nothing's changed much since then,' Harry thought as he gazed upon the chamber he'd entered a few moments earlier. He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

Lit up by the Lumos he still had active, Harry glanced around himself as he walked slowly down the center of the chamber. Even though it was less than two years ago, he could clearly remember what he felt last time he'd walked down this path. The fear of running into the basilisk, the worry for Ginny's wellbeing, the sense of exposure brought on the hollow eyes of the serpent statues. But soon enough, he'd passed by those and found something else to focus on, namely the rotting and rank corpse of the basilisk from where it still lay in front of the massive carved statue face of Salazar Slytherin. Harry was unsurprised to see that the entrance to which the basilisk came from was still wide open, since neither he nor Tom Riddle had bothered to try and close it. This caused what would've otherwise been a severe expression on the statue's face to seem like it was comically gawking as if horror or disbelief at having to witness its most dangerous weapon be killed and left to rot right in front of it.

Moving forward up to the edge of the flooded moat that separated the statue from the rest of the chamber, Harry couldn't help but begin to grow angry as he stared at the statue. He couldn't help but think of the legacy that this man had left. More than just Voldemort, the killer of his family, but a systemic and enduring hatred that allowed for so much more. Soon, he found himself glaring up at the face angrily. "This is all your fault, you know. All of it started with you. The prejudice, the Purebloods, the wars, Voldemort. All of this is entirely your fault."

There was so much more Harry wanted to say. He wanted to rave and cuss about the man for championing such a vile way of thinking. He wanted to curse and defame the actions this distinguished figure had promoted. But for all that he wanted to do, he held himself back. After all, what he really wanted was to do all those to the real Salazar Slytherin, not some statue.

"You know you're supposed to have been something great?" Harry half mumbled to himself, and half to the statue as his gaze fell to the waters at his feet. "The four of you could have laid it all out perfectly, but no. You just had to hate. Wish you'd have met a little green man in a swamp to teach you how not to be a wanker. Maybe then your House would be tolerable."

Harry might've hated the modern day Slytherins (or most of them) passionately, but he also understood that they hadn't started out that way. He knew that once, long ago, they had been just another school house with wide-eyed and eager students wanting to learn the secrets and the mysteries behind the majesty and awe of magic. He knew that the darkness that enshrouds the House was only a comparatively recent development and that Slytherin himself wasn't technically to blame for the way the wizarding world and his House had turned out. But even so, it was hard to separate his anger from all the misery and pain that the House of the Snakes had, are, and will put him through and to not want to blame the man who'd created the House in the first place.

In the corner of his eye, he could faintly see the glowing eyes of some more jeweled serpents carved into the walls of the chamber, seemingly watching him, judging him. The faint ripples that were floating through the waters made those same serpents somewhat appear like they were alive and dancing. It wasn't intentional on his part, but the sight of dancing snakes reflexively triggered Harry's Parseltongue as he spoke up next.

"Magic is a wondrous thing," Harry mumbled as he stared at the green-tinted waters at his feet. "But I guess it can't solve everything wrong with the world."

As if in reply, the eyes of those serpents flashed faintly for a split second before dying out again. It was so faint and sudden that Harry almost thought he'd imagined it. Before Harry to could turn away, a sudden golden glow emanated from the depths of the waters in front of him.

"What the?" Harry gasped in surprised as he took a step back slightly, eyes wide and his wand at the ready. But after a few moments, he stepped forward again and peered down into the watery depths, gazing down at the strange glow he could see underneath. "That looks like torchlight. Is there another cave down there?" He could faintly see what looked like a tunnel down at the bottom of the moat, some four meters below, which was clearly where the flickering lights were coming from. "What's going on down there?"

It was a second's time of deliberation before Harry promptly decided it was worth the effort and potential danger to go exploring. Pulling off his cloak and discarding his red Gryffindor shirt and slacks, with only his undershirt and boxers, he gripped his wand in one hand and his glasses in the other as he dove into the cold water without a moment's hesitation.

(Tellemicus' Note) Just for the record, this isn't where I wanted to end the chapter. However, I felt that I'd neglected this story long enough and it would be better to post what I had rather than leave you guys hanging. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Fiori and I worked pretty hard to try and keep things reasonably close to canon while also trying to show a more realistic setting for what drives Harry towards becoming what all know he will be.

As you can probably guess, I decided to completely skip over the whole Triwizard Tournament introduction, unveiling of the Goblet, arrivals of the other schools, and the big surprise of Harry being forcefully chosen. I just didn't see the point of rehashing such old and well known material.

But I can't help but wonder how many of you were surprised by what's happened. Be honest, who saw Harry revisiting the Chamber of Secrets coming? Who can guess what it is that's caught Harry's attention? And what role does Pansy play in all this?